


unification

by iamalivenow



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: A Lot of Judgeing, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Humor, Knights of Ren AU, M/M, Multi, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Polyamorous relationship, Polyamory, Sharing Body Heat, Sharing a Bed, this is how i show my love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-08 23:26:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8867515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamalivenow/pseuds/iamalivenow
Summary: They get the plans off, but Tarkin has a better use for them than their corpses.A long time has passed since then, though, and while they revel in their own private comforts, they have a new master to answer to. They'll get through it together. They always do.





	1. The Rogue Watches

**Author's Note:**

> Knights of Ren Au, what the fuck am I thinking. 
> 
> If you're not familiar with what I'm talking about, [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y4QOpYMsFXQ) hot disaster of a theory was made, and it *SPOILERS* didn't end up being canon *SPOILERS* to no one's surprise. 
> 
> Then I saw the movie and wished that it was, cause ayyyyyyyyyyy the ending hurt me. 
> 
> So the plot of this, in the most basic of terms, is the rogue one squadron got wintersolider-ed. 
> 
> I'ts not crack, though. 
> 
> I hope you like it. 
> 
> ntbt'd
> 
> The Rogue- Jyn Erso  
> The Sniper- Cassian Andor  
> The Heavy- Baze Malbus  
> The Monk- Chirrut Imwe  
> The Armory- Bodhi Rook  
> The Droid- K-2SO

The Rogue watches.    
  
She's good at that.  
  
Watching.  
  
The others crowd behind her, waiting for something, anything, any sort of positive affirmation that it's not really happening. That they aren't really going to be assigned to this teenager. This child. This colossal abomination. The Sniper has his hand on her shoulder, and she doesn't know what help it's supposed to give. Or who it's supposed to help, for that matter.  
  
The Supreme Leader is in the antechamber below them, sitting on his throne. Thinking. His head is resting on his hand. The child kneels in front of him. There's scurrying below them, imperials- First Order members at work. The Monk is white knuckling his staff.  
  
“I am one with the force, the force is with me, I am one with the force, the force is with me, I am one with the force, the force is with me-”  
  
“Shh, I can't hear!” She moves a little forward, as much as the scaffolding will allow.  
  
“They won't do it.” The Droid shakes his head. “Not a chance. They can't do that to us.”  
  
“I am one with the force, the force is with me, I am one with the force, the force is with me-” The Heavy begins to mumble.  
  
“Shh!”  The Sniper hisses.  
  
“We've done so much for them.” The Droid continues, his joints making a telltale creaking sounds. He's dragging his fingers against the wall. “So much.”  
  
“I am one with the force, the force is with me-” The Armory starts, and the three of them come into sync almost immediately.  
  
“Enough!”  
  
The Rogue ignores them. It's not that she's not nervous about this, she is, it's obscene to even think about, but her nerves were never a problem. She watches. The Supreme Leader waves a hand and the boy stands up.  
  
“He's very young.” She says. All of them shut up to listen to her.  
  
“How young?” The Armory asks, moving forward too. The Sniper stops him before he gets to the edge.  
  
“Maybe twenty five?” She isn't sure. His face is oddly shaped. Too angular.  
  
“Maybe twenty five!” The Heavy thunks his head against the wall of the alcove. “He's a child!”  
  
“How old was Vader?” The Armory asks.  
  
“Younger.” The Rogue says.  
  
“Just because Tarkin said-” The Supreme Leader shifts, and the child drops back down to his knees. The Rogue tries to hear their conversation but Force knows that's not happening.  
  
“Don't talk about him anymore.” The Sniper says. “He's been dead for years.”  
  
“Years?” The Armory asks. His memory was always spotty at the best of times. “Has it been years? Already?”  
  
“Decades.” The Monk stops his prayer. “Is he strong?” He asks.  
  
“You could always tell better then me.” The Rogue says. “Come here.” She sticks an arm out. The Monk moves out slowly, until he's sitting by her side, his arm hooked around hers. The Heavy moves The Sniper out of the way, ready to catch both of them. It's quiet for a moment. Longer, maybe then any of them would like.  
  
“Yes.” The Monk says. The Rogue let's out a small sigh of relief. “More then Vader.”  
  
“Liar.” The Heavy whispers. “Don't try to make us feel better.”  
  
“Nothing can make this better.” The Droid says.  
  
“It's not a lie.” The Monk twists around sharply into The Heavy's arms. He catches The Monk under his arms and pulls him back to solid ground.  
  
“Easy.” He whispers.  
  
“It's not a lie, he's shrouded in it.” The Monk says.  
  
“He's already killed someone?” The Armory asks, his voice cracks.  
  
“A lot of someones.” The Monk says. “Jedis.” He says. “Little Jedis.”  
  
“Fuck.” The Sniper says. It's a shared sentiment.  
  
The Rogue watches as the boy gets up and bows at a ninety degree angle. He stands back up and turns. The Rogue does her best to shove all of of them into the hole. They all stay quiet, silent as the void. The boy catches her though. She's surprised, but it might be a passing glimpse. She presses herself flat against the wall.  
  
“I don't like this.” The Droid says.  
  
“No one does.” The Heavy starts helping The Monk out of the passage. The Droid helps The Armory, and The Sniper helps her. 

  
❂

  
The Rogue watches.  
  
She's good at that.  
  
Watching.  
  
All of them are in bed, her and the Droid aside, and he sits sentry by the door of their room.  He never sleeps, he's no need for it. She wonders unending if he's lonely because of it. He's told her unendingly that he's never lonely with them. None of them are ever lonely anymore. One family, always together when they can be. Connected even when they're not.  
  
They can't remember a time when they weren't. The Rogue doesn't think she wants to.  
  
The Monk and The Heavy are coiled around each other, like they always are, and it's hard to tell when one ends and the other begins. The Armory rests in between them and The Sniper, curled in on himself, pressed against the Sniper who's laying face down, an arm thrown over The Armory's chest, his other arm where The Rogue was a few minutes ago.  
  
Now she sits next to The Droid. Her head rested against his shoulder.  
  
“Are you worried?” He asks her, quietly, so as to not wake the others.  
  
“I'm trying not to be.”  
  
“We are too useful for them to just throw away.” The Droid says. She nods. She knows this. It's not really that helpful. He drags his frame around until his head is rested on hers and she tries to keep her laughter to herself. Someone shifts behind them and that only makes her laugh harder.  
  
“Do you remember, when Vader put us under, the first time?” She asks.  
  
“No.” The Droid didn't have the luxury of holding onto any memories they didn't find pertinent.  
  
“You told me the same thing. Then.”  
  
“And it's still true.”  
  
They were woken up for this. Dragged out of carbonite to serve under a new name to a new master. The Knights of Ren, they are now. It's a gaudy name. Pompous. She's not a fan. No one else is, either.  
  
It's cold, in the room, but the entire complex is built into the side of a mountain on a small forgotten planet in the Unknown Regions.  The Droid is pretty cold too, made of metal, but she moves closer to him anyway. She's dressed down, only her undergarments, and she shivers.  
  
“Go back to bed.”  
  
“I'm not going to sleep at this point.”  
  
“It's warmer for you.”  
  
“Are you kicking me out?” She asks with a smile on her face.  
  
“Suppose not yet.” She smiles again, and closes her eyes. She calls his name and listens to his servos click as he turned to look at her fully.  
  
“Would you miss me?” It's an odd question. She doesn't know where it comes from, but she asks it all the same.  
  
“Of course.” He calls her by her name. They don't use their names anymore, not in public, only in silent little moments like this. Their names belonged to the them that remembered the time before family. Before unification. But sometimes, they liked to pretend. Liked to pretend to be their own people.  
  
“What about them?” She lists their names off. Slowly, down the line. If anyone knew they remembered their names, they would have them beaten out. It was the Armory's idea, to code them into a line of the Droid's memory, deep in the important stuff. Hidden from anyone unless they knew what they were looking for.  
  
“Them as well.” It's private, one of the few things that still belonged to them. They didn't have a lot, tools, and they were just tools for the Empire- the First Order, didn't get to own things. But still, they had their names. They had each other. They had quiet little moments, in the dead of night. They had their bodies and their weapons. They had their minds.  
  
“I would miss you.” She says.  
  
“Well I would hope so.” He says and she fails at hiding her laughter again. They all had little trinkets too, things that the Empire- the First Order didn't care about. She had her crystal, that hung low on her neck that all of them took turns kissing before a mission.  I am one with the force, the force is with me. “Go back to bed.” He says again. “Early start tomorrow.”  
  
“It's always an early start.” She mumbles.  
  
“Preciously. A full nights rest is important.” When he calls her by name and pets her hair she gives in. A quick kiss on The Droid's cheek before turning and returning to her spot. “If I had skin I would be blushing.” He calls after her. The Sniper's turned and wrapped himself around the Armory, and she wraps herself around him.  
  
The Rogue had them.  
  
Her boys.  
  
Hers. 

  
❂

  
The Rogue watches.  
  
She's good at that.  
  
Watching.  
  
Kylo Ren, as he is introduced, is a tall boy. Broad chested, with thick black hair and big brown eyes. If he's to be the new hand of terror, straining over all of the New Republic, he's got his work cut out for him. They dislike him almost immediately. She sees it happen, down the row of them. The Droid and the Sniper turn their noses up at him, The Heavy follows suit and the Armory follows him. She's not a fan. The Monk keeps his head down. He's standing by her side, today.  
  
He offers them breakfast, which shocks all of them into stillness.   They are rarely still, all of them constantly moving. Little movements, fingers dancing on weapons, chests rising and falling, eyes darting back and forth, feet sweeping slowly.  
  
What's the catch? They want to ask. They don't. They stare when stormtroopers bring in several platters, and a table after that. Sort of backwards way of going about it, she thinks. The troopers leave and the food sits there.  
  
The irritation begins to rise off of them after that. Meals are their time. They don't eat a lot, their stomachs are a mess and The Droid doesn't need it, but when they all get around a table it's time that belongs to them. It's a rule they've always adhered to. But Ren makes no motion to leave. He stands and waits for something.  
  
But they take their seats. They do as they're told. They can't all fit on one side and one of them is going to be stuck next to Kylo Ren. She silently volunteers herself, all of them argue. She sits down next to him first and that's the end of that. The Droid sits next to her. He has a long enough reach to protect her if she needs it. She can protect herself, of course, but it's best to double up on these sorts of things.  
  
No one knows where to start, the food in front of them is hot and not the kind of thing they should eat right after coming out of carbonite. It'll make them sick later, they know. This is uncomfortable.  
  
“It's not poisoned.” Kylo Ren says. It sounds as if it's meant to be a joke. The Rogue picks up a fruit between her fingers and when it's juice drips down her wrist she puts it back down firmly. The Heavy makes a face that the Monk nudges him for.  
  
“They can't eat this.” The Droid says and a sigh of relief sweeps through them. “Just out of carbonite.” He adds when The Rogue pats his leg.  
  
“I-uh. Sorry. I didn't think.” The Sniper mumbles something and the Armory makes a horrified face at him.  
  
“Let's make sure it doesn't become a habit then.” The Droid says. The Rogue has to hide her face in his arm.  
  
“I”m just trying to make a good impression.” Kylo Ren says. “He told me who you were and-”  
  
“Maybe just talking would be better.” The Rogue says, before someone says something that would get them in trouble. There are smiles around the table now, though. She's glad.  
  
“Now  or-” This is embarrassing.  
  
“Why don't you start?” She says in her hopeful voice, a voice reserved for masters and not anyone else.  
  
“I'm glad to be working with the people who helped Darth Vader, and I'm glad we all work under the same banner.” He says. The words don't sound like his own. The Monk mumbles something and The Heavy laughs. The Droid leans down to her.  
  
“Would you like a joke as well?”  
  
“I'm alright, thank you.” She smiles.  
  
“You like Vader?” The Heavy asks after a while. “Why?”  
  
“I'm his grandson.”  
  
“I am one with the force, the force is with me, I am one with the force, the force is with me, I am one with the force, the force is with me.” The Monk recites under his breath but all of them know what he's saying. The Sniper gets up from the table.  
  
“Did the Supreme Leader explain to you, what it is exactly, we are intended for?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“No?” Kylo Ren shakes his head. That's startling. All of them freeze up again.    
  
“I'm not done with my training, but there is a mission I know about.” They wait. “Skywalker.” 

  
❂

  
The Rogue watches.  
  
She's good at that.  
  
Watching.  
  
The Sniper arches under the water fall, the water gliding off of him. His lines are sharp, all of the white slivers of scar flesh against his dark skin almost reflective in the light. The Armory sits next to her on the rocks lining the pool, his head against her hip, his knees in the water. His lines are soft, even now, and the scars on his dark skin look pink instead of silver, always fresh. The Heavy stands over The Monk, washing his hair with more gentleness then she ever really expects from him. The Droid stands vigil over them, out of the water.  
  
“I don't like him.” The Sniper says. “He's too entitled.”  
  
“No one likes him.” The Droid calls.  
  
“I don't see why we have too.” The Heavy says. “He's not Vader. He's not Tarkin.”  
  
“Years.” The Armory whispers to himself and The Rogue puts a hand in his hair, petting it gently, trying to get the tangles out.  
  
“We've answered to others.” She says. She doesn't know why she's trying to defend him.  
  
“He's not even Krennic! And Krennic was a fucking joke!” The Sniper's yelling over the water. Maybe it's out of anger too, because they could hear just fine before.  
  
“It's not like we have a choice.” The Armory says.  
  
“I know!” The Sniper throws his arms up.  
  
“You're going to let him ruin this for us?” The Monk asks. They all stop talking. He's right, he usually is. They've been shown a pool, with a water fall, for cleaning, they were told. It was fantastic, a luxury. The water was cool but they could warm up well enough. It felt good, against tired and battered skin. It felt good to be clean again.  
  
They had thrown their clothes off and jumped in as soon as the attendant left them, a big splash, laughter, softness and kindness and they were not going to let a boy ruin this. Another quiet moment, all theirs. The Sniper had swung The Rogue around like she was a child and it made her heart swell. The Armory toed the edge of the water until the Heavy and the Monk pushed him in, nuzzling into the side of his head when he surfaced with a smile that was so big.  
  
Now she sat on the rock with The Armory, fingers entwined, watching the others. It was so fantastic, their unification singing it's merriment. She wonders if the them with names would do something like this. She doesn't see why they wouldn't aside from maybe the fear of nudity. It seems silly, though. To think that at some point, all six of them weren't one unified number.  
  
The Sniper moves from under the water to go sit with The Monk and The Heavy. The Monk takes to The Sniper's hair, trying to calm him down before he went and did anything reckless. That was her job, though, doing reckless things.  
  
She wanted to go sit between them too, but the Armory got up first, pulling her by the hand until they collide into them, bodily sending all of them into the water again. Skin pressed again skin warms them up instantly. The Droid watches them from the shore and when The Rogue reaches her arm out for him, he's quick to take it.

  
❂

  
The Rogue Watches.  
  
It's what she's good at.  
  
Watching.  
  
The mood is tense and she sees it in all of them. Shoulders are stiff and taught, postures overly rigid. The Monk has his hand in hers, and The Armory's attached himself to The Droid. The Heavy and The Sniper lean against each other, and it's barely noticeable to anyone, anyone who wasn't one of them.  
  
But it's like Kylo Ren said, they are working under the same banner now. They have to look the part as well. The uniforms they are given are oppressive, in an odd way. The clothing is very comfortable, easy to move in, breathable, but they don't want to wear them. The helmets especially. They can't see each other with them on.  
  
“Maybe they meant to get someone else.” The Monk says. They were usually used for stealth operations, suicide missions that normal people wrote off as impossible. Not this sort of tacky, noticeable mess. How were they supposed to retrieve information, in and out, unnoticed dressed like this.  
  
And they couldn't see each other.  
  
Well, they could see each other, but not each others faces, not the thing the counted. It felt the most painful to lose that. It wasn't fair. They were- well, they weren't going to complain, but they were going to do something. Until Kylo Ren walked in in his own helmet and swath of black and it became obvious they weren't getting out of this.  
  
“The Supreme Leader insisted.” Kylo Ren says.  
  
“Lie.” Says The Monk, under his breathe, so quiet only The Rogue can hear him. She knows it's a lie even before The Monk says it.  
  
“Knights of Ren.” Kylo Ren says and they all snap to attention. They are soldiers, first and foremost. They take their orders and they take them well. They still, upright. “A vision.” He continues.  
  
“Lie.” The Monk says again. The Rogue squeezes his hand. Her crystal sits on her chest under the black uniform but she wishes she could give it to The Monk to hold onto right now. He shakes his head gently.  
  
“You will be glorious.” Kylo Ren says.  
  
“As if there was ever any doubt.” The Droid says. As soon as Kylo Ren leaves the room they all tear the helmets off and laugh. They're in hysterics a few moments later, and The Rogue holds on to the Monk to keep upright.  

 

 

❂

  
Jyn Erso Watches.  
  
It's what she's good at.  
  
Watching.  
  
Tarkin is an impressive man, with sharp features and smart clothing, who walks past the row of them and counts of their every single flaw. Then one by one, they get dragged some where else. They scream for who ever is taken away, because maybe maybe maybe, someone will stop.  
  
They all know they won't.  
  
K-2SO is pulled away first and Cassian screams himself hoarse. There's no sense in being brave now. They've completed their mission. They can take the break, they can let themselves fall apart because the rebellion won't.  
  
Baze goes next and Chirrut prays, louder and more aggressively then Jyn's ever heard anyone pray.  
  
Then Bodhi and Jyn can't take it, it hurts it hurts it hurts.  
  
Then Chirrut, and she's crying.  
  
Then Cassian, and he's being ripped out of her arms.  
  
She's left alone with the Tarkin.  
  
“The Mother of the Rebellion. That's what they'll call you. It's an impressive title, of course. Shame you'll never hear it.” She's on her knees at this point.  
  
Who cares.  
  
What else could they possibly take from her?  
  
“Would you like to know what's going to happen to you?” He asks. He has her face in his hand.  
  
She spits at him and he laughs.  
  
Like it's the best joke he's ever heard.  
  
For all she knows, maybe it is.


	2. The Armory Worries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who is interested in this work! 
> 
> I hope you continue to be so, and I hope you like this chapter!
> 
> ntbt'd

The Armory Worries.  
  
It's what he's good at.  
  
Worrying.  
  
He stares down at his little old imperial patch. He doesn't really know where he got it from, it doesn't seem like something any of the imperials would have given him, but the piece of fabric is a constant in his life, like The Rogue's crystal or The Monk's staff. He drags his fingers over the ridges of the imperial marker and takes a deep breathe. He fumbles the thing in his hands and turns back to look at them.  
  
The Rogue is smiling at him, waving her hand gently before turning back to help The Sniper into his uniform. The Armory wishes for the umpteenth time that he could stand next to her. She was so much more sure then he was. He shakes his head. No, no, he's an adult, sorta, he should be able to do this.  
  
“What is it?” Kylo Ren's voice makes him jump. He was lost in thought again. It happened a lot. It was hard for him to concentrate on anyone thing for too long.  
  
“I was wondering-” He trails off. There has to be a better way to say that, right? Why isn't the Rogue helping him? He turns back to look at them for a second, he sees The Droid help her pull on her absurd long coat.  
  
“Yeah?” Kylo Ren asks, tilting his head.  
  
“If I could- If you-”  I am one with the force, the force is with me,  I am one with the force, the force is with me,  I am one with the force, the force is with me. “If I could attach this to my uniform?” He thrusts the patch in front of him slightly. Kylo Ren looks down at the patch and then back at The Armory.  
  
“Why?”  
  
The Armory doesn't have an actual answer. He wore it with all of his other uniforms before. He takes another look at the group of them and The Heavy and The Sniper are helping each other with their shoulder guards. He hopes one of them would turn around and see him fluster, but all of them are too busy to help. He drags his foot along leg.  
  
“Memory?” He says or asks. He doesn't know anymore. He's not good at this. He's never been very convincing. They have to leave soon and he still has so much to strap on to him. He's being stupid. He shakes his head and folds the patch back in his palm. “Never mind.” He says and turns around.  
  
“Wai-” He doesn't bother waiting for what ever Kylo Ren wants to say to him. He'll try again next time.  
  
“What he say?” The Heavy asks, helping him put on his thermals.  
  
“I didn't ask.” The Armory says. He folds the patch up and slides it under one of the straps of his under shirt before The Heavy yanks the long sleeve black sweater over his head. “It's not important.”  
  
“If it's important to you, it's important.” The Monk says next to him, sliding the vest over his chest. The Droid helps yank The Rogue's boots on and she's shrieks when she almost falls over.  
  
“It's kind of a mixed message though, right?” The Armory asks.  
  
“Best to keep them guessing.” The Sniper says, before slotting the massive blaster onto The Armory's chest. “I can sew it on for you, who care what he says.” The Armory feels hot. Hotter then the thermals were supposed to make him. The gun on his chest weighs him down a bit and that's why he's starring at the floor. That's it.  
  
“It's alright.” The Armory insists, his hands up in defense. He's happy The Rogue can't see him like this, she's too occupied with The Droid to pay attention to him right now. All of a sudden, The Sniper's arm is down his neck hole and inch away from his face, and it startles him badly enough that he jumps into the air. “What are you-!!!”  
  
“It's fine.” He feels The Sniper's hand graze against his skin and he feels himself heating up again, before The Sniper's fingers find the patch and pull it out.  
  
“Did you have to do it like that?!” He feels a little hysterical, but that was pretty silly, as far as things went.  
  
“Where do you want me to sew it onto?” The Sniper asks, not missing a beat. He tracks of to find a needle and thread while the Armory is left starring at him. The Heavy snickers lightly. The Monk finds his hand and pats his head. The Sniper comes back and his eyebrows are raised in question.  The Armory points at the sleeve. “Done in a second.” The Sniper smiles at him.  
  
It is done in a second, about the amount of time it takes The Rogue and The Droid to walk over to them.  She smiles at him and reaches over to drag her fingers against the ridges of the patch. They're close together, he can feel her breathe on the side of his face. She looks up to meet his eyes and she smiles.  
  
“Looks good.” She says. He nods and a smile crosses his face before he can stop himself.  
  
“My handiwork is going to get you laid.” The Sniper whispers in his other ear and he feels himself get warm again. His helmet is a few inches from his hand so he yanks it on. All of the others laugh, and even if they can't see his face, he can feel hands on him.  
  
They dress him, his clothing taking the longest amount of time. He's  The Armory. He's an Armory. He  brings what they might need, the weapons they'll need attached to his person. They carry their own guns, sure, but he's there for the  miscellaneous equipment. He's a pilot too, but The Droid and The Sniper are both better at it then he is.  
  
He doesn't take it to heart though. He's here with them for a reason right? Tarkin saw a reason in him! And he's glad, so glad that he gets to spend time with them. He's pretty sure they like him too. He watches The Sniper press his mouth to the side of The Rogue's face before winking at him.  
  
Yeah.  
  
Pretty sure. 

  
❂

  
The Armory Worries.  
  
It's what he's good at.  
  
Worrying.  
  
He never imagined it could be this cold in desert. Well, maybe it makes a little bit of sense, it being night, and the dusty planet's two moons hanging low in the sky, but the cold seemed to sink into his bones and stay there.  
  
He sits on the back of a speeder he's sharing with The Sniper, his helmet resting against the other man's, The Armory's head on his shoulder. They sit at the top a huge dune and wait for orders. Kylo Ren isn't here with them, something about him being needed else where, but they are still acting on his behalf. The Armory scans the horizon, slowly.  
  
“Seems empty.” The Heavy calls, one speeder over. The Monk's cowl is whipping in the wind and it almost flies off of him a few times, his staff sitting on the back of their speeder. He's leaning against Heavy, starring up towards the moons.  
  
“I don't imagine many would be out at this time.” The Droid calls. He and The Rogue share the last Speeder. She's starring ahead, silent.  
  
“Do we still go in?” The Sniper asks, turning his head to The Rogue too. “He said to expect a guard.”  
  
“Are we in the right spot?” The Armory asks. Everyone nods at him.  
  
“He said he wanted information, didn't he? If there's no one to get in our way, why would we stop?” She  asks and throws her leg back across the seat of her speeder. “Come on. The soon we do this, the sooner we can get inside again.”  
  
The Armory wraps his arms around The Sniper who gets back on the speeder and takes off first, down the massive dune and to the base of the tiny building. When they stop, The Monk gets off first. He spins his staff lightly, back and forth in easy motions. The Heavy walks past him when he realizes he's just doing some weird thing outside to the door. He pushes against it and it doesn't budge.  
  
The Sniper follows him and gives a sharp kick to it, and it doesn't bother going anywhere either. The Rogue walks up to The Armory then, reaches around him and unclips one of the charges on his belt. He smiles at her huff of excretion and waits by the Speeder before the door flies of it's hinges before following the other's inside.  
  
Still no one. No one the whole way down to the base of the stairs. There's another door, but this one gives much easier and the second it opens a round of blaster fire goes off in their direction. He's closes to The Monk, grabs him by his cowl and yanks him behind a wall. The others double back as well.  
  
“There's your guard!” The Rogue yells. The Armory can hear the smile on her voice. The Heavy lets out a laugh and starts up his rapid blaster. He aims it over his shoulder into the hallway and fires off several rounds.  
  
The gun shots stop pretty quickly.  
  
“I was hoping for more.” The Droid says, sticking his head into the hallway. The Armory can hear his eyes shift into infrared before switching back. “One life form detected.”  
  
“That was one guy?” The Sniper asks.  
  
“There is one life from that isn't dead now, yes.” The Droid continues. The Rogue nudges both of them and she moves into the hall way with her own blaster drawn. They trail after her.  
  
The room itself is covered in numbers, ceiling to floor, every corner, every crevice. The man cowers in the corner, bent over himself mumbling something. There are five other corpses The Armory guides The Monk around.  
  
“Any worth in talking to him?” The Heavy asks.  
  
“Not much left in his head.” The Monk says, his staff held by both hands between him. “Not much to begin with.” He admits a moment later.  
  
“He's an imperial.” The Armory says and points at a similar looking patch on the man's sleeve.  
  
“Didn't know we had anymore of those left.” The Sniper says. He pulls back the safety of his blaster and points it at the man's head. He fires.  
  
“Suppose we don't.” The Droid says.  
  
“Just the best one.” The Rogue picks up a data stick from what looked like a shrine erected to hold it. She pockets the data stick before walking over to The Armory and tapping his own patch. He was never an imperial, he doesn't think. Why would he be this if he was? But he takes it, her compliment warms him up in the cold.  
  
“Aw.” The Sniper says, tilting his head back, for effect The Armory thinks.  
  
“You'll make us gag.” The Heavy says, but it's a joke, and he throws an arm over the Armory's shoulders.  
  
They all take their time looking around the room, seeing if they can't find anything else, but the data stick seems to be the only actual point of interest.  
  
“Should we photo the numbers?” The Armory asks.  
  
“There are numbers?” The Monk asks.  
  
“Here.” The Heavy pulls off his own glove and then The Monk's glove and dragging his hand across the walls.  
  
“I've recorded enough footage of it.” The Droid said.  
  
“Tell me them.” The Monk says.  
  
“Do you need us?” The Sniper asks. The Heavy takes a look around the room one more time before shaking his head. The Sniper, The Rogue, and The Droid start to head up the stairs. The Armory stays to watch the two of them. The Heavy shows more patience then usual, slowly walking The Monk around the room, carrying his hand from one set of digits to the next.  
  
“What are they?” The Armory asks. For a second he's worried he's ruined the moment, but The Monk talks with a smile on his voice.  
  
“Old rumor. Tarkin was excited by them.”  
  
Tarkin was a very impressive man. But Tarkin is dead. Has been for a long time.  
  
It's been a long time.  
  
A very long time.

  
❂  

  
The Armory Worries.  
  
It's what he's good at.  
  
Worrying.  
  
How long can he hold his breath? It's an important question, because The Heavy pushes him under the waterfall to get all the soap out of his hair, and he can't really breath all that well. Right when his lungs start hurting The Heavy yanks him back out and chides him for not coming out sooner. The Sniper laughs and rescues him, arms around his waist.  
  
He never really understood where he was supposed to fall with them. The Monk and The Heavy had each other, and The Sniper and The Rogue had each other. The Droid was shared between all of them, so where was he supposed to go?  
  
It had become a problem, a non problem, maybe, for him a long time ago. He never had the courage to just ask, which was probably the smarter thing to do, but he can't even begin to imagine how to go about it. He always seems like a third wheel to a pair.  
  
“Are you worrying about something again?” The Rogue calls him by name. That's dangerous. It's a public pool, anyone can walk in. But she does it quietly. He shakes his head, a small smile skating across his features. She reaches out for him and he goes, along with The Sniper still latched onto his waist.  
  
He likes his name on her lips. She makes it sound soft and delicate. He thinks its pretty fitting for him, because out of all of them, he fills that role best. She takes his hand gently, always so gentle with him, and pulls him until he's straddling her waist. The Sniper moves away, carefully to lay by her side and to stare at them both.  
  
Their skin is very contrasting, especially in this light, so when his naked body slots against hers it must be a sight. She offers a smile before reaching up and pulling his head down into the crook of her neck. He goes down with no argument. The water is cool against them, but her body is warm against him.  
  
She feels soft against him, her chest against his especially. The Sniper whistles from the side, low and content. They're waists are under the water and when he feels a hand rubbing up and down his leg he opens his eyes, peaking behind her to see The Sniper with a smile on his face.  
  
Still, in this moment he feels like he's interfering. Like they're humoring him, but he's more and more alright with it as the hour passes. She pets his back and it's so peaceful he almost falls asleep against her.  
  
This soft sort of languish.  
  
It calms him down more then he ever imagined anything could.

  
  
❂  

  
  
The Armory Worries.  
  
It's what he's good at.  
  
Worrying.  
  
The nights are always freezing. Absurdly cold and unpleasant. He tries to sleep in a pair of boxer briefs,  they all sleep as close to naked as they can afford to, more skin against skin, it feels good, it feels whole. It feels like communion. It's always upsetting when he can't bare the cold though, so he gets up in the middle of the night and tries to bounce around, shake some warmth back into his bones.  
  
He walks around the bedroom, slowly, doing lunges, and The Droid watches him from his post as the foot of their bed. The others are well asleep, have been for a few hours now, but he can't take it and he doesn't know what to do.  
  
“You should go back to bed.” The Droid tells him.  
  
“I know. It's too cold.” He mumbles, and with a frown watches his breath puff into the air and disappear. “You see?”  
  
“I can feel the temperature.” The Droid says. “Maybe you could grab a sweater.”  
  
The Armory shakes his head. They have a rule, as much skin as possible. When they don't sleep naked after sex they wear undergarments to bed and nothing else. It's a rule they've always kept and Force knows he's not going to be the one to ruin it.  
  
“Are they not warm enough?” The Armory shakes his head. He can feel it in his teeth.  
  
“I don't know what to do.”  
  
“Some hot milk?” That's... not a bad idea, actually. Kylo Ren gave them quarters with a kitchen. He could make something out of that.  
  
“I'll be back in a few minutes.” He nods and walks out of the room with a spring to his step.  
  
Any joy he had is knocked out of him the second he sees Kylo Ren cross legged on one of their bar stools. Vader never did this. Tarkin never did this. Krennic nev- Krennic did it once, but when The Sniper told Tarkin it certainly never happened again.  
  
“Kylo Ren?” The Armory asks. He looks up from reading his data pad. He looks flushed. The Armory doesn't want to think about it. He's wearing little more then The Armory is, a tank top and a pair of sweat pants. He's barefoot as well. The Armory gets the sense he's doing it just to prove a point.  
  
“So-Sorry.” Kylo Ren mumbles before getting up. “I didn't know any of you were awake.”  
  
“Did you need something from us?”  
  
“No. I just needed some quiet.”  
  
“Could you not get it in your own room?” The Armory asks before his hand flies up to his mouth.  
  
“Snoke can-” He shakes his head. “This room is enforced. And quiet. I feel safer here.”  
  
The Armory doesn't even know where to start, if he's being entirely honest. He feels... safer here? Does he expect them to protect him? That's rather presumptuous, isn't it? Ugh. He can see why the others don't like him, all of a sudden. He doesn't really want to move past Kylo Ren to get his milk now though.  
  
He wants to turn around and disappear back into their room, into The Sniper's or the Heavy's arms.  
  
“Kylo Ren?” The Droid stands behind the Armory. He hears his servos click into place. He's never been happier. The Armory leans against one of his legs and a hand settles down on his hair.  
  
“I didn't know so many of you were awake.”  
  
“I don't sleep.” The Droid says. He moves past the Armory into the small kitchen.  
  
“Right.” Kylo Ren says. They stands in silence while The Droid works in the other room. Kylo Ren cracks first. “There's someone I want you all to meet. He's like Tarkin, I think.”  
  
“Okay.” The Armory says. He's not well equipped to handle this.  
  
The Droid comes back with a mug in his hands that he pushes into The Armory's chest before turning him around bodily and pushing him back into the bedroom.  
  
The milk feels warm all the way into his stomach. 

  
❂  

  
Bodhi Rook Worries.  
  
It's what he's good at.  
  
Worrying.  
  
The rack he's on is worse then the one he was on before. He's alone, and the lights are harsh and it is silent. He doesn't know how long he's been strapped to the table. How long the only sound he's heard has been his heartbeat and the blood rushing around in his body. He's starving and thirsty and filthy. And alone. So desperately alone.  
  
He was with some other people, he thinks. He remembers their faces, but the names are gone. It's a miracle, he thinks, that he can remember his own name. He might have been stuck here for longer then he thought.  
  
“How did you meet Galen Erso?” The noise shocks him. It almost hurts, to hear a noise come from outside. “Shh, shh. Relax.” Tarkin, and it is Tarkin, comes in to view. Tarkin is an impressive man, with sharp features and smart clothing. “Tell me, Bodhi. How did you meet Galen Erso?”  
  
“I-” His throat hurts just making that noise.  
  
“Go ahead.”  
  
“I don't know who that is.” He mumbles. Names are hard for him.  
  
“The man who helped you smuggle information.”  Oh. Him. Him. How did he... He blinks a couple of times.  
  
“He met me.” He says. His throat hurts.  
  
“Alright.” Tarkin takes a deep sigh. “I'm going to tell you a few things, and you can nod. You can still nod, can't you?” When Bodhi nods, Tarkin claps his hands together. “Good. Very good.”  
  
Bodhi nods again.  
  
“Are you in love with Galen Erso?” The question hits him hard, for some reason. He wasn't expecting that to be something to come up. He did love him, as an inspiration, as a man who smiled in the face of Empire and worked behind their backs.  
  
Bodhi nods.  
  
“Good.” Tarkin says. "Very good.  
  
And then he leaves.  
  
“Wait-! Wait!” Bodhi yells, even though his throat hurts and he splits his dry lips doing so. “Don't leave me alone again! Please! Wait!”  
  
If anyone hears him, there's no reaction.  
  
He forgets his name after that.  
  
He forgets everything after that.


	3. The Sniper Decides

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of you are so kind!
> 
> Thank you!
> 
> ntbt'd

The Sniper Decides.  
  
It's what he's good at.  
  
Deciding.  
  
He decides, rather firmly, that the situation they are in at present is a nightmare unparalleled. The man in front of them, behind Kylo Ren who sputters out something resembling an introduction. He has sharp eyes, calculating, The Sniper can see that even through his visor, and they are in their full regalia,  Kylo Ren insisted. Kylo Ren seems quite proud of something,  and that's rarely a good sign, The Sniper has learned.  
  
But the man with the sharp eyes watches them so carefully. He has the reddest hair The Sniper has probably ever seen, he can't swear for lost time, but it seems almost entirely guaranteed. The bluest eyes too. He stands tall, almost matching Kylo Ren in height, even with his helmet on, back ram rod straight.  
  
But the man watches. He watches with the same intensity he's seen The Rogue watch. The same intensity he watches with when he looks through a scope. The same intensity he's seen in Tarkin.  
  
He's young though, couldn't be older the thirty five and that's if The Sniper is hard pressed to admit. He looks severe though, harsh around the edges, like he's lived through more then thirty five years would allow him too.  
  
The General of the First Order. The others are certainly more content with him then they are with Kylo Ren. The Sniper knows why, it's kind of obvious, really. He's like Tarkin. And Tarkin was a very impressive man.  
  
The Sniper is surprised by the fact that Kylo Ren talked him into coming to their chamber. But then, with out losing the plot, he supposes that makes  Kylo Ren the Lord Vader to The General's Tarkin. It seems insulting to Lord Vader's memory to compare him to this half baked child though.  
  
The General walks down the row of them, stopping in front of The Droid. His eye brows raise and he turns back to Kylo Ren.  
  
“Bit old, isn't it?”  
  
“Vintage.” He can hear something akin to humor on Kylo Ren's voice. Ugh.  
  
“And it still functions?”  
  
“Good as new.” The Droid says before Kylo Ren opens his mouth again. The General blinks and looks up at The Droid.  
  
“I didn't know any of you could talk.” The General says, and there's a smirk on his lips, slight. “Good. Make life so much easier.” He turns sharply and walks back up the row. He stops at The Heavy this time, places his hand on the chest plate before slowly dragging his hands up to find the release of the helmet.  
  
The Heavy blinks momentarily, adjusting to the light.  
  
“And you're even human too.” There is a smile on The General's face. “You're quickly meeting all of my standards Ren.” All of them turn their heads to look at Kylo Ren who has to take a turn.  
  
“I told you they were.” He says.  
  
“What, and I'm supposed to just trust your word?” He asks in turn, whip quick. “Either way.” He puts the helmet back into The Heavy's arms and turns to walk out of the room. “I'm satisfied. I'll message you if I need something from you.” Kylo Ren nods before The General leaves.  
  
Kylo Ren pulls his helmet off almost immediately afterwards and sighs out of relief.  
  
Disgusting.

  
  
❂

  
  
The Sniper Decides.  
  
It's what he's good at.  
  
Deciding.  
  
He looks back and forth between the two strips of fabric The Monk is holding up. It's later in the day, already dark out but they don't have any work to do so they sit around the small living space given to them. There's not a lot to do here either, per say. The Rogue sits on the tiny couch, her legs outstretched the full length of it but her feet still dangle off. The Armory has a spanner in his hand, trying to tighten a joint on The Droid, but it doesn't look like it's giving.  
  
“They look identical.”  
  
“That's what I told him.” The Heavy says. The Heavy looks tired, but there's a small smile on his face.  
  
“I can feel that they are not identical. This one is thicker.” The Monk holds up the one in his left hand. “This one has crosses.” He says.  
  
“The one on the left.” The Rogue calls. “Thicker is better.” All three of them turn to look at her, and her eyes are closed.  
  
“What if we go to a hot place next?” The Sniper asks.  
  
“Exactly.”  
  
“It'll stop a blaster shot better.” The Droid says and The Rogue points at him in agreement. She covers her eyes with her other hand and she looks very dramatic. The Monk turns his head between the both of them. He drops the cowl that he was holding in his right hand and goes to put away the thicker one with the rest of their uniforms. The Heavy sighs and picks up the rejected fabric from the floor, trailing after him.  
  
The Sniper crosses the floor until he's next to The Rogue on the couch. He trails his fingers on the lower half of her face and she smiles.  
  
“You alright?” She shrugs in place of an answer. He drops to his knees and rests his head on her stomach. A few seconds later, he feels fingers thread through his hair. “What are you worried about?”  
  
“Just uneasy. Like something's wrong somehow.”  
  
“Something is always wrong.” The Sniper says. She looks unhappy by that so he tries to recover with a joke. “There's been a shift in the force.” She calls him by name and he stops talking.  
  
“Not now.” She says. “My head is splitting open.” The Sniper doesn't move. She doesn't make him. They sit like that quietly for a while and at some point, he gets up to bring her water before taking the same place.  
  
“Bed.” He says after an hour, when The Armory and The Droid leave the room. “Come on.” He shakes her a little bit and her hand moves to the side. Her face is wet. He calls her by name and her eyes open. “What's wrong?”  
  
“I don't know.” She shakes her head. “I keep-” She sighs and sits up, tired from craning her neck to look at him probably. “I keep hearing a man's voice.”  
  
“Who's?”  
  
“I don't know. It's gravely.” She mumbles, rubbing her eyes. “I keep hearing it over and over saying the same thing.”  
  
“What is it saying?” He rubs her knee.  
  
“I love you, stardust.” Another tear rolls down her face and The Sniper adjusts to face her, wiping it away gently. “Just over and over again and I think I'm losing my mind.”  
  
“Shh no.” He hugs her tightly, pulls her closer to him until she buries her face in his neck. “Shh. You're not. You're fine.” He calls her by name and she sobs harder. “It happens from time to time. To all of us, you know that.”  
  
None of them were perfect.  
  
“I know. But it won't stop!”  
  
“We can make it stop, alright? Everyone will help.”  
  
“I don't-”  
  
“We.” He says and pulls away from her to wipe her face clean before helping her up. “Are going to help you. You helped us, it's only fair. Alright?” She nods. “Alright. Good. Let's get to bed then.” He steps out of the way for her.  
  
The Rogue stands by the door, The Droid holding her shoulder, while The Sniper untangles The Armory, The Monk, and The Heavy and explains the situation to them. She looks terrified when he turns back to look at her.  
  
The look doesn't suit her.

  
❂

  
The Sniper Decides.  
  
It's what he's good at.  
  
Deciding.  
  
Kylo Ren is standing in the center of the small town, The Heavy and The Monk flanking his side while he explains to the rest of the towns folk, those who aren't lying on the floor in a bloody heap that he needs to see the man in charge of kyber imports.  
  
The Sniper pulls away from the scope to crack his neck. The wind howls loudly but the nest is mostly covered. He's up here with The Armory and he thinks how easy it would be to unload a charge from his plasma canon into Kylo Ren's head. He doesn't do it but force around does he want to.  
  
“Is it hard?” The Armory asks him.  
  
“On my back.” The Sniper says.  
  
“Oh.”  Through the scope, The Sniper sees a few men hidden behind a fence with what looks like heavy weaponry. He turns on the communicator to The Heavy's frequency. “There's five hostiles, northeast of you.”  
  
“By the fence?” The crackly response comes back.  
  
“Yes sir.” Five shots ring out and the enemies have dropped dead. The towns people are in a panicking now.  
  
“Appreciated.”  
  
“Any time.” The communicator turns of with a sharp crack.  “Does your back hurt?” The Sniper asks The Armory. “From all the shit you carry?”  
  
“My knee hurts sometimes, but not really.”  
  
“We can get you a new one, if you want.” The Sniper watches Kylo Ren turn on his gaudy lightsaber.  
  
“Uh, no. I'm good.” Kylo Ren swings his lightsaber up and then swings it back down on a women's neck. If anything it's probably a painless death, but he's certainly has no intention of finding out. “I don't think I'd like having fake limbs.”  
  
“Can't tell the difference, apparently.” Kylo Ren kills two more people. He does a sweep of the site and see another man with what looks like a grenade hiding a ways away. “Vader was almost entirely artificial.” He loads a charge and aims it at the grenade. He's sure Kylo Ren would appreciate the dramatics. He cocks the blaster and fires. The explosion makes everyone scream.  
  
“Well he needed it, right? I can handle the pain.”  
  
“Im just saying.” The Sniper says. The man everyone is waiting for finally comes around, with a massive bag trailing behind him. The communicator crackles to life.  
  
“Watch him.” The Monk says.  
  
“Got it.” It crackles out and The Sniper loads another charge. “There's no reason for you to feel any pain at all.”  
  
“I know.” The Armory makes a noise. There's fabric shuffling behind him and then The Armory fires of a blaster. There's a sound of a body hitting the ground.  
  
“Sneaky.” The Sniper says and The Armory chuckles in his breathy kind of way.  
  
The man with the bag moves to pull something out from behind him. No way of knowing what is it, The Sniper fires off a round into the reaching arm. The blast takes it clean off. It was a trigger of some kind. He made the right choice.  
  
He usually does.  
  
He's kind of good at that.

  
❂

  
The Sniper Decides.  
  
It's what he's good at.  
  
Deciding.  
  
The water is freezing today, and he has to stop them from running in like they usually do.  
  
“This is how you catch pneumonia. This is how you die.” He says as slowly as he can while he watches the joy dwindle out of their faces. “I'll talk to someone, see if they can run some hot water. Please don't get in.” He pulls his clothes back on, starring all of them down before turning around and walking through the chamber.  
  
He wanders around, and there is no one around. Right, the big meeting. Some architecture thing, Kylo Ren told them about. He can barely remember it. He rounds a corner into the maintenance hallway and crashes into a person. He steps back quickly helping the person up and raising his arms in apology before he realizes it's The General. He didn't know The General ever came to the base aside from when he was seeing The Supreme Leader. And if that is what he's here for, why is he in a maintenance hallway?  
  
“General, sir.” He says.  
  
“You're not in uniform.” The man says. The Sniper shakes his head.  
  
“No, sir. Kylo Ren only insists on them when we are on mission.”  
  
“Who cares what Kylo Ren insists on, a storm trooper is to be in full uniform at all time. Who is your commanding officer?” Oh. Oh right, he's only seen the face of the Heavy. He shakes his head.  
  
“I'm one of Kylo Ren's knights sir.”  
  
“One of- Oh. I assumed you all looked alike. It's something he would do after I told him I didn't want any clones. You understand I'm sure. Which one are you?”  
  
“The Sniper. Sir.”  
  
“So well behaved. Nothing like your master at all.” The General shakes his head momentarily. “What are you doing here?”  
  
“Trying to find hot water.”  
  
“Is your refresher disconnected?”  
  
“We don't have a refresher, sir. Just the spring.”  
  
“There's a running spring here? In this cold?”  
  
“Apparently, sir.” He finds himself putting his hands behind him. It seems natural.  
  
“Show it to me.”  
  
“Sir.” The Sniper nods and turns before walking back down the hallways. The General's boots click along the metal walkways. They click along the rock when he shows The General the natural out cove . The others, and thank the force they got dressed in time, spring to attention.  
  
“Look at the variety of you.” The General says. He walks down the line of them again, with a different look of appraisal this time. “Where did he find you?” He asks, stopping in front of The Monk.  
  
The Sniper doesn't say a word.  
  
A realization flashes across his mind. If The General isn't aware, he should not be made aware by them. If The General is not aware by now, he is not meant to be aware. If The General is not meant to be aware, then the Tarkin comparison is inaccurate. If, then, The General is not Tarkin, then he must fall to Krennic. If The General falls to Krennic then less respect should be afforded to him then to Kylo Ren.  
  
The Sniper is uncertain of what to do with this information. He doesn't like it. He hopes, momentarily that he is the only one to have come to this realization, but the odds are unlikely.  
  
Maybe they should stop living by the old metric.

  
❂

  
The Sniper Decides.  
  
It's what he's good at.  
  
Deciding.  
  
The Droid paces the room. The Monk prays quietly under his breath. The Heavy and The Rogue sit against each other, slowly braiding each others hair. The Armory drums his fingers on the table. Kylo Ren stands in the door way and no one says a word.  
  
Which one of them is going to give in first, The Sniper thinks. Well, not him, at the very least. He can't imagine what Kylo Ren could possibly want from them now. The mission that's due isn't until two days from now.  
  
“What can we help you with?” The Droid finally asks, and a sigh of relief sweeps through the room. His servos turn rhythmically to look around the room. “Oh of course.” He says. The Rogue can't hide her smile. “It's always me, isn't it.” The Droid moves to stand next to The Sniper, leaning against the wall.  
  
“The Supreme Leader insisted that we team build.”  
  
“And how would you prefer we do that?” The Heavy doesn't even look up.  
  
“He didn't specify.”  
  
“Course not.” The Armory mumbles.  
  
“I-” Kylo Ren shakes his head. “What did you all do to become a team?”  
  
“Orgies, mostly.” The Monk says and Kylo Ren chokes on nothing.  
  
He's not wrong though.  
  
“Don't degrade our love making to orgies.” The Rogue says. The Heavy snickers.  
  
She's also not wrong.  
  
“We're not looking for new members at the moment, but as soon as we are, you'll be first on the list.” The Droid says.  
  
He's also not wrong.

Kylo Ren makes a noted pause before taking a deep breathe.  
  
“I appreciate the offer.” He says before turning around and leaving the room. At least he's a good sport about all of this. That's a point in his favor.  
  
Hysterical laughter erupts from all of them as soon as the hear the second outer door close.

  
❂

  
  
Cassian Andor Decides.  
  
It's what he's good at.  
  
Deciding.  
  
He decides, in that moment, to never say anything that would harm any of the others. They don't deserve it. They don't deserve what Tarkin is promising to do to them. Tarkin,  the  impressive man, with sharp features and smart clothing, who stands in front of him speaks with out an ounce of doubt in his voice.  
  
It's dangerous.  
  
This man is more dangerous then anything else.

But he does deserve it. He's done enough awful things in his life to deserve all of this. Maybe he did them for a good reason, there's no doubt that he did, but still.

Still.

He deserves this.  
  
“It's simple. All I need from you, it's not much, really, is to tell me which one of them you think is useless.”  
  
“Wha-”  
  
“Shh.” Tarkin's hand is on his face. The leather of his glove is soft against his skin. “All I need from you is one name. That's all, Cassian. Just one name.”  
  
He doesn't even want to consider the thought. He's not going to consider the thought. He made a choice, easy, sweet, and to the point, when he joined Jyn's rebellion. He was ready to die for her, for all of them.  
  
Why isn't he dead yet?  
  
“It's an easy question, don't you think, Cassian?”  
  
“Fuck off.” He bites at the hand on his face. Tarkin offers him a smile. He doesn't even bother moving his hand.  
  
“One Name.” He says.  
  
Cassian doesn't think about it too long before he smiles his best smile.  
  
“Cassian Andor.”  
  
The smile that spreads across Tarkin's face puts fear into his stomach. If he lives through this, he is never getting rid of it. He knows in that moment, No matter what he does, it's never going to leave him.

“Very good.” Tarkin says, turns around, and leaves.  
  
Very good indeed.


	4. The Heavy Hates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad people like this story!
> 
> I hope you continue to like it!

The Heavy Hates.  
  
It's what he's good at.  
  
Hating.  
  
He wakes up first, which is rare enough, but when he opens his eyes the cold sinks into his skin almost immediately, his joints hurt when he sits up, and he blinks his eyes to clarity. He cracks his neck back and forth before he turns his head and sees Kylo Ren standing in the door way. The Droid's servos hum as he turns his head back and forth between the two.  
  
“You're a sight to wake up to.” The Heavy says before dragging a hand through his hair. It's gotten tangled again.  
  
The Rogue turns over with a sigh into The Armory's chest and The Sniper follows her. The Monk has his face pressed into The Armory's neck. The Droid's eyes light up before turning back to look at Kylo Ren.  
  
“The Supreme Leader wants to see you.” Kylo Ren says.  
  
“How lucky.” The Droid says. The blaster cannon in his hands rests against his knee. The Heavy sees where the muzzle is pointed.  
  
“Are you going to stand there and watch?” The Heavy asks and Kylo Ren nods.  
  
“Are you joking?” The Droid asks and Kylo Ren shakes his head.  
  
“The Supreme Leader insisted.” The Heavy stares at the man before slowly looking away. He sighs. It's to early to deal with something like this. Kylo Ren, how ever unpleasant isn't going to get in the way of their morning ritual though.  
  
He leans down and brushes his lips against The Monk's ear. The Monk stirs and The Heavy moves out of the way before he shoots up ramrod straight the way he always does. The Monk doesn't say anything, just finds The Heavy and presses his face into his shoulder. The Heavy lifts up a hand and rubs his head.  
  
He reaches across The Monk to gently shake The Armory awake, who makes little noises before rolling over onto his stomach and groaning. The Rogue wakes up on her own, probably from the lack of warmth on her front and she nudges The Sniper awake. The Droid gets up and moves past Kylo Ren, presumably to prepare breakfast. They've spent a long enough time out of carbonite where their stomachs can handle real food.  
  
The Rogue notices Kylo Ren first, and she grabs The Sniper's wrist, yanking him into a sitting position. The Armory sits up but doesn't get very far before The Rogue reaches and yanks him closer to her too.  
  
The Monk stills. He must have noticed Kylo Ren now. He's like an animal, completely frozen. The Heavy can't figure out who's prey and predator though. He's seen Kylo Ren fight before and he's reckless. Theres a desperation in his style that is more like a man drowning then a man fighting. He's pretty sure The Monk could take him.  
  
They get dressed with Kylo Ren turning away from then while they do so. They're quick about it, helping each other. The Sniper dresses The Armory and The Heavy helps The Rogue who helps The Monk. They work in tandem, fast and precise, but soft at the same time. Plenty of brushes against skin, pats and rubbing the sleep out of muscles.  

He holds their boots steady for them.  
  
They brush past Kylo Ren to sit at the small counter. The Droid watches Kylo Ren for them while they eat in relative silence. They usually go slow in the morning. They talk to each other. They exist in a unification that is their own thing. Singular and beautiful.  
  
But Kylo Ren is here.  
  
The fucking brat.

  
❂

  
The Heavy Hates.  
  
It's what he's good at.  
  
Hating.  
  
The Supreme Leader is not the Emperor. He never had to interact with the man, none of them except The Monk did. But The Monk told stories,  shaking, late at night. The Heavy imagines what the Emperor would have been like. But The Supreme Leader is not the Emperor.  
  
He was sitting back on his throne, watching them all carefully. Kylo Ren kneels in front of them. No one has asked them to do the same. They stand up straight and face forward.  
  
“You've been through so much, haven't you?” The Supreme Leader asks. He waves a hand and The Heavy feels the force swell around them. The Monk keeps his head down. “You can speak.”  
  
“Yes, sir.” The Rogue says using her special voice. The one that people liked to hear.  
  
“How much you've done for the empire.”  
  
“As we were told to, sir.” The Sniper says. It's better to just let them talk. They're more eloquent.  
  
“Are the accommodations to your liking?” They all nod in unison. A smile crosses the man's face. “And Kylo Ren, is he to your liking?”  
  
“Of course, sir.” The Rogue says, too quickly, because the man raises what would be an eyebrow.  
  
“Is that so.” It's no longer a question. “How has he upset you?” The Supreme Leader asks and Kylo Ren presses his forehead into the ground.  
  
“Can't complain, sir.” The Droid says. The man's head turns to stare at him.

“You.” The Supreme Leader says and points at The Monk with one long finger. The Heavy nudges him and The Monk looks up. “You dislike him. Why?” The Monk shakes his head.  
  
“It's of no consequence, sir.”  
  
“Just say it.”  
  
“There is nothing to say. Sir.” The Monk swallows. The Heavy understands, of course he does, what's happening. He just wasn't expecting it, is all. Still, no need to bite the hand that feeds.    
  
“You think he's reckless, not devoted. Disrespectful.” The Monk doesn't talk. What can he say when a force user insists. The others all swallow too. “All of you think this. And yet so quick to defend a runt.” The Supreme Leader says.  
  
“He's been good to us, sir.” The Rogue says.  
  
“I'm sure he has.” There is a pronounced silence. “You're free to go. Except for you.” He points at The Monk again. “I wish to discuss something with you. The rest of you, leave.”  
  
They do as their told, but they only get as far as outside the main hall before they stop and wait. He's not leaving him to walk back alone after whatever this is. None of the others are either. They stand, at first, but after an hour passes, The Armory and The Sniper sit on the floor. The Rogue passes while the Droid leans against a wall. The Heavy stands and waits.  
  
“What was that about?” The Armory asks.  
  
“I don't know.” The Heavy says. “I assumed he liked him.”  
  
“I thought he did too.” The Rogue says.  
  
The Heavy tries not to worry.  
  
He fails miserably.  
  
Four hours pass, and it's pitch black  outside, freezing in the hallway when both The Monk and Kylo Ren walk out. The Heavy is quick to get under his side, throwing The Monk's arm over his shoulder. The Monk looks tired but he seems alright, mostly. The Heavy pushes his face into The Monk's, any reaction would be a good reaction and he gets a smile for his troubles.  
  
Thank the Force.

  
❂

  
  
The Heavy Hates.  
  
It's what he's good at.  
  
Hating.  
  
Kylo Ren lives with them now. In the living room, but still. The Supreme Leader ordered him to be supervised by The Monk and now they're all stuck with him. He doesn't talk a lot, not that he ever did, but he seems less irritating for some reason. Acclimation bias, he thinks. The Heavy isn't happy he's there, though. The Monk spends some time with Kylo Ren when he's not busy, teaching him things.  
  
“None of you respect the Whills anymore.” He says one day. “They used to mean something.” The Heavy rolls his eyes. Business as usual, it seemed. He sits on the couch with The Rogue and the watch The Monk hit Kylo Ren's feet with his staff.  
  
“You keep saying that.” Kylo Ren says and frowns.  
  
“He doesn't know what he's talking about.” The Heavy says.  
  
“I do!” The Monk says. “The Emperor-” He stops talking sharply.  
  
Oh.  
  
The Sniper has a spanner in one hand and The Droid's arm in the other, and The Armory sits across from them with his leg up on a chair. Kylo Ren gets distracted and the thwack is heard across the room. The Rogue has her fingers in The Heavy's hair. He lets her.  
  
“You were a Jedi before?” The Rogue asks out loud. She's not looking at him, but it's obvious who she's addressing.  
  
“No.” Kylo Ren says. The Heavy drums his fingers.  
  
“But you can use the force?”  
  
“Subjective.” The Monk says.  
  
“Yeah.” Kylo Ren steamrolls over him.  
  
“Why not just do that?”  
  
“Didn't work out.”  
  
“Did the dark side call you?” The Sniper jokes. There's oil smeared across his forehead and on the corners of his mouth.  
  
“Yeah.” The room gets quiet. “You all kill people, what's the difference?” The Monk swings at him again and this time Kylo Ren catches it. “Why do you think you're better then me?” The air turns to static around them.  
  
“We don't.” The Sniper says. He doesn't even bother looking up. “We're filled with as much self loathing as you are.”  
  
He's not wrong.  
  
Kylo Ren is breathing hard, angry or upset, The Heavy doesn't know, but the Rogue gets up when the kettle starts whistling and pours out six cups of tea. She puts them on a tray and walks around the room, until she gets in front of Kylo Ren. She picks up the cup and pushes it to his chest.  
  
“Don't complain.” She says and goes to wash her hands.  
  
“...Sorry.”  
  
Child.

  
  
❂

  
  
The Heavy Hates.  
  
It's what he's good at.  
  
Hating.  
  
He yanks his hand back as quickly as he can. He doesn't know how a fire sprung up or who's responsible but he yells from the shock all the same. The pain is an unpleasant stinging that thrums under his skin while he tries to put the fire out. The Armory is by his side quickly, and together they manage to put it out.  
  
“Are you okay?”  
  
“What do you think?” The Heavy grits his teeth.  
  
“Here.” The Armory pulls out the blocks of ice they had in their freezer box and press it to his burn. “I think...” He mumbles the rest of it, a look of embarrassment crossing his face. It sounded vaguely along the lines of The Sniper left the repair oil near the stove, someone spilled it, and The Armory thought he got the rest of it, but apparently...  “I'm sorry.”  
  
The Heavy has a hard time staying mad at him, especially when The Armory wets cloth on the ice and wraps it around his hand. It feels soft against his skin, cool against the sensitive part of his hand. It's fine, it's not like he can't fire a gun or something.  
  
The Rogue and The Monk come bounding through the door at that moment, excited and bouncing. The Heavy sighs, tired just from looking at them.  
  
“What?”  
  
“We found something!” The Rogue gasps out, her chest is heaving from the strain. “It's a surpri- are you okay?”  
  
“What's wrong?” The Monk asks. They're both so quick to change their tune.  
  
“I fuck-” The Heavy cuts The Armory off.  
  
“Nothing.” He shakes his head. “What was it?”  
  
“Kylo Ren showed us. Come on.” The Rogue grabs The Armory's hand and The Monk moves to grab The Heavy's hand before The Heavy pulls away.  
  
“What's wrong?” He asks again and The Heavy smiles.  
  
“Take my other side.” He says and The Monk grabs him and pulls him along the other two. They track through the fortress before they come to a spiral stair case built into the wall.  
  
“Stairs?” The Heavy asks and The Monk nudges his shoulder.  
  
“Come on.” The Rogue's laughing as she bounds up the stairs three steps at a time. The Armory, with his bad leg gets pulled along like a rag doll. The Monk is more kind to him, but not by much, pushing  him up the stairs.  
  
All right, so it was worth it, but it's not like he's going to admit it.  
  
What must have been ten flights of stairs leads outside, to a small outcropping of rock, where the others are gathered, where the night sky is visible. The Heavy stares in mute shock for a few seconds before The Monk pushes him forward. As he takes his steps, Kylo Ren brushes past him. It's an after thought, but he disappears behind him and they are left alone.  
  
It's been a long time since they've seen the night sky like this. The tiny piece of rock they sit on doesn't have any moons and it's one of the clearest skies he's ever seen. Stars as far as the eye could see, the type of view that really drove forward how unmentionable a person was.  
  
They have a couple of blankets up here already, a little lean to against a wall.  
  
He takes his seat, with The Monk in his lap against the wall, to stare at the void. The Droid sat at the edge of the blankets, his eyes emitting a faint glow, and that was the only light here, really. The Rogue, The Sniper and The Armory fell in some position between The Droid and them, The Sniper with his head in The Rogue's lap, The Armory against her back, his head on her shoulder.  
  
They sit in silence, just starring. The only noise is the occasional ruffle of fabric when someone shifts or when The Monk presses against him. It's miserably cold, but his burn doesn't smart anymore.  
  
He feels the his tears drip down onto his hand before he realizes he's crying. He's quick to wipe them away, but The Monk turns around to look. He's crying too. The Heavy brushes his tears away and kisses his forehead. The Monk smiles and turns back around. He can hear the others crying too.  
  
This happens, from time to time and he doesn't know why.  
  
“Stardust.” The Rogue whispers into The Sniper's ear. The Sniper sits up and pulls her closer to him.  
  
Yeah.  
  
That makes as much sense as anything else does.

  
❂

  
The Heavy Hates.  
  
It's what he's good at.  
  
Hating.  
  
The Heavy drops flat to the ground as a blaster bolt shoots an inch away from his ear. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. The fucking rebellion and it's stupid fucking army. The Rogue has her blaster drawn and pressed against a wall. She fires it off a few times before the gun flies out of her hand because of the angle.  
  
“Remember when they couldn't shoot for shit?!” She yells over blaster fire.  
  
“They still can't!” The Sniper shouts, his own gun firing off, loud sharp cracks over the comm system.  
  
“I think they may have improved slightly.” The Droid said, and a few seconds later a large explosion went off. “Marginally.”  
  
“Oh just a smidge huh?” The Rogue grunts in frustration. The Armory starts coughing sharply, before there's shuffling.  
  
“Put your mask on, they're gassing us.” They all pull the tab on their helmets, and the fabric covers The Heavy's mouth quickly.  
  
“Motherfuckers.” The Heavy turns around in his cover, switching a setting on his heavy gun, the rapid blaster starts whirring loudly and he starts firing.  
  
“You're not even looking!” The Rogue yells.  
  
“Spray and prey!” He yells back. She snickers lightly. “It's a valid tactic!” The Monk coughs next to him.  
  
“There's an opening, but it's not going to last long. Go on three to your left.” The Sniper says.  
  
The Heavy helps The Monk to his feet and when The Sniper hits three, they dive for it. The Heavy and The Monk separate from The Rogue and The Droid, but when he sees her run in between the smoke, she grabs her pistol. She'll be fine. She knows what she's doing.  
  
“I'm not thrilled, can I just say.” The Monk mumbles.  
  
“I know.” The Heavy says. “We get to the ship.” The Monk nods and The Heavy pulls him along, in between gaps of old abandoned buildings. They have to stay silent, The Sniper helps him when he can, but The Heavy has to do most of the heavy lifting. Occasionally, The Monk grabs his hurt hand and he has to bite his tongue to keep silent.    
  
It takes time but they round the hill and get to the ship in one piece.  
  
“Where are the others?” He asks when he gets to the nest.  
  
“Not back yet.” The Armory says.  
  
“Trapped.”  
  
“I'll go get them then.” The Heavy says before The Monk grabs him.  
  
“Kylo Ren?”  
  
“Not back either.”  
  
“I am one with the force, the force is with me, I am one with the force, the force is with me, I am one with the-” The Monk begins and The Heavy has to fight the urge to roll his eyes.  
  
“I'll go get them. Where is he?”  
  
“You can't get both of them by yourself.”  
  
The Monk pulls off his boots and leaves them by The Armory.  
  
“There.” He says. “Let's go?”  
  
The Heavy smiles.  
  
He has no problems getting The Rogue and The Droid back to the nest. He does it quickly and with no problem. All he has to do now is wait, and he has never been good with that.  
  
“Don't panic.” He can't even tell who said that. The Monk doesn't answer the comms.  
  
“I'm not.”  
  
Five minutes later, he's pacing back and forth. The Sniper takes pot shots at anyone who comes out in the open and everyone else sits and waits. And waits. And waits.  
  
“I'm going to go get him.” He's up and walking down the hill before The Rogue calls his name. Must be serious if they're bringing out his name. Whatever. He doesn't know where The Monk is but The Sniper directs him. At least he's not arguing with him, at least he's being sensible.  
  
He spends half and hour dogging fire from rebels until he finds an empty house. They're inside, something tells him that isn't The Sniper. He goes inside.  
  
“He's bleeding.” The Monk says. He means Kylo Ren. Kylo Ren is bleeding.  
  
“Fucking Rebels.” The Heavy says. “Help me get him up.”  
  
“Resistance.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“The Resistance.”  
  
“Help me get him up.” The Heavy repeats and The Monk smiles, pulling Kylo Ren to his feet.  
  
“I stopped the bleeding the best I could but-”  
  
“We can take care off him on the ship. Come on.”  
  
They trek through a mostly empty city. They're comms crackle back to life a few blocks in and he can hear cheers.  Good, they're  still safe.  
  
“Was he shot?” The Heavy asks.  
  
“I can hear you.” Kylo Ren mumbles.  
  
“He was like that when I found him.” The Monk says. They make their slow way back to the hill, and then The Droid picks Kylo Ren up for them.  
  
“Shall we?” It's Kylo Ren's personal shuttle that sits behind another hill.  
  
All in all a successful mission, even if they did almost get shot several times. The Heavy and The Monk come upon the shuttle first and then a rapid series of events happens all at once. It's hard to keep track of them, because on second he's laughing about something The Sniper said and the next thing he knows he's on the dirt.  
  
The Monk pushed him, he guesses, out of the way.  
  
Out of the way of what?  
  
Blaster fire goes off rapidly, a torrent of it and his body moves before he can think, grabbing his gun and firing rapidly and then the blaster fire stops.  
  
He sits back up slowly, looks for where The Monk is, finds him laying on the dirt, clutching his side.  
  
Fuck.

  
❂

  
Baze Malbus Hates.  
  
It's what he's good at.  
  
Hating.

Tarkin stands behind a pane of glass, impressive, with sharp features and smart clothing. He watches with a small smile on his face as Vader paces around the room, around him.  
  
“He's resilient.” Tarkin says. “Used to my methods. Thought you could take a swing at him.” There's a lazy smile on his face. Vader's respirator works away.  
  
“What do you want from him?” He asks, and Baze rolls his eyes.  
  
“Surprise me.” Tarkin says.  
  
Vader lifts up a hand, his fingers contort and Baze feels a needle press into the space between his eyes.  
  
He sees Chirrut over and over and over again. Sees him when they were younger, when he was still a Guardian, sees him when Baze was banished, sees him practicing his forms on the dusty street of Jedha,  sees him young and old, sees him spread out below him, sees him spread out above him, nothing but Chirrut again and again and again and again and again.  
  
It's a trick he taught himself the last time someone tried to get into his head like this. Bombard with images of the one infallible thing in his life.  
  
First and foremost.  
  
Only and forever.

Singular and Beautiful.  
  
Vader pulls away and the needle goes with him. Baze watches him from under heavily lidded eyes. He feels tired.  
  
“The other one, the blind one, he likes him.” Vader says.  
  
“Loves him. Actually.” Tarkin says. Baze's eyes shoot up to look at him. “The blind one already said as much. He's a nightmare too. You force users.” Chirrut wasn't a force user, but Baze had no intention of correcting him. Good. Let them think. “Give me something useful, please.” Tarkin takes a drink.  
  
The room is very white when the needle returns. A series of images flashes through his mind, Chirrut taking up less space this time. He fights it as best he can,  but it's an uphill climb at best. Chirrut in white robes, blood smeared on the floor, Chirrut laughing over dinner, blood smeared on Baze's hands which he wipes down the front of his shirt, Chirrut with his leg stretched to his head, blasters pointed at his head, Chirrut holding his hand, the trial, the verdict, Chirrut sleeping next to him, the dead Jedi, the bodies, the mangled bodies, Chirrut in a field of--  
  
“He killed them.” Vader says. “The horde of Jedi, the ones that went missing outside of our work.”  Baze gasps for air.  
  
“Oh?” Tarkin has a vicious smile on his face. “Never would have guessed. Good.” Tarkin says. “Very, very good.”

**Author's Note:**

> [iamalivenow](http://iamalivenow.tumblr.com/) is me on tumblr, come say hi, I'm nice, I swear. 
> 
> I take requests there!
> 
> Comments always appreciated!
> 
> If you make anything, please tell me!
> 
> ✧*｡٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و✧*｡


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